


Graveyard Dreams

by LilyK



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e06 Discovered in a Graveyard, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: During his recovery, Doyle has nightmares.





	Graveyard Dreams

Bodie held the sweating man in the circle of his arms. Fearful of hurting Doyle, his grasp on the thin, taut body was as gentle as possible yet still keeping Doyle's fists from connecting with either of their noses. Even though he was still recovering from Mayli Kuolo's bullets, Doyle had surprising strength behind those punches. 

"Shhh," he whispered, mindful of the tears that sprung to his eyes over Doyle's suffering yet happy that at the moment his lover couldn't see the emotion etched on his face. He'd do anything to take this pain away from Doyle, anything. As it was, all he had to offer was his presence and his loyalty. "It's okay. Come on, Ray, wake up." Waiting for Doyle to respond, Bodie got his feelings under control. 

Doyle's stiffened form finally, slowly started to deflate before slumping back against him. "Bo-bodie?" 

"Nah. It's Cowley's who's holding you in his loving embrace. Or maybe Macklin." He placed a kiss on the damp head. Doyle smelled of sweat and fear. "Or would you prefer Anson? I hear he's got the touch of an angel." 

Doyle gave a tired chuckle. "Want Murph, that's who." 

"Berk," Bodie said affectionately, very gently hugging Doyle to his chest. "Better?" 

"Sort of." Doyle's head turned and wide eyes met him. In the moonlight that fell from the closest window, Bodie could see the fear etched on his face and feel the slight tremors that still had a hold on Doyle. 

"Goose walked on your grave?" Bodie didn't even try to be sympathetic. Doyle hated that. So he went for humour and let Doyle tell him what he needed to in his own time. 

Bodie had to smile when Doyle cast him a half-hearted grin and rolled his eyes. "I hate goose. Prefer chicken. Wish they'd stay in their own sodding graveyard and not tread on mine." 

"I quite fancy a bit of goose at Christmastime. Me mum used to make a tasty pie with any leftover bits the next night." 

"With gravy?" Doyle asked. 

Bodie nodded, pleased when Doyle snuggled into his arms. "'course. What? You think the Bodies were heathens?" 

"Hate that dream, Bodie. Graveyards and tombs. From out of the ground... hands grabbing my ankles, pulling me down. Voices telling me I belong to them..." Doyle slipped an arm around Bodie's waist and pushed his head under Bodie's chin. 

Under the duvet, Bodie rubbed Doyle's back. "Never fear, my helpless maiden. Your knight in shining armour is here to protect and defend you." 

"You're such an arse." 

Bodie knew he'd learned from the past attempts how to soothe his recovering lover. How to assuage the fears Doyle couldn't admit in the light of day. Fears every man had, of death, and dying, and most of all, of leaving love behind. 

Bodie sniffed haughtily. "I'll have you know I'm indeed tall-" 

"Shut it, moron, and give me another goodnight kiss before I fall asleep on your dark and handsome figure." 

Bodie laughed aloud and complied. 

End


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